


Records

by emmaliza, Eternity (emmaliza)



Series: Eternity: Series A [1]
Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Action/Adventure, Character Death, Drama, Multi, Mystery, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza, https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/Eternity
Summary: A woman fails to make a terrible choice.A woman is cast aside by the system she has always believed in.A woman tries to do what's right under cover.And a boy discovers something, but he does not know what.
Series: Eternity: Series A [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2176269
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this series is something I've been planning for a long time, and I finally got the first episode done. Here's hoping the rest of it goes a bit quicker.

Guard duty was boring.

Mat groaned as he leaned back against the tall brick complex he was protecting, seeking some refuge from the sun. Leave it to him to him to get funnelled back here so the Federation could celebrate this planet's native sons. Axom 5 troopers always got treated better than Axom 6's – better paid, better perks, the lot. Something to do with half their planet being in open rebellion. The Federation needed to hold on to every solider they could.

“Hines. Eyes open.”

Mat hadn't noticed he'd closed them actually, but he did open them again, to see Kerters glaring at him. “Sorry sir,” he muttered sheepishly. Yes, he knew, the entire standing Federation peacekeeping force of Axom 5 was in that building, and it wouldn't do for something to go horribly wrong because the guards weren't paying enough attention.

Although frankly Mat wasn't sure it was worth the worry – the natives of Axom 5 were primitive people, farmers and fruit-pickers, they barely had any guns they hadn't stolen from the Federation itself. They weren't going to take on a building full of Federation troopers. They were primitive, not _stupid_. No, the troopers didn't have anything to worry about – not until they left, that was, then all the resistance fighters would be lying in wait for them, trying to pick off as many as they could get, one by one.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and tried to focus, and only then did he see something emerge from the verdant forests ahead of them (one thing you had to give Axom 5, its landscapes were a lot more appealing than the cold, barren tundras of Axom 6, if insufferably humid).

Someone, rather.

“Kassi?”

She grinned as she strode up to him, another woman trailing behind her awkwardly. “Mat!” she greeted him with a hug and a kiss to the cheek that turned him pink. “Good, I was hoping it would be you. That makes things easier. It's been months, hasn't it?”

Previously Mat thought it hadn't been enough months, given the two week journey time between Axoms 5 and 6, but seeing her again seemed to make it all worthwhile. “Friend of yours, is she?” Kerters asked as Kassi withdrew from the embrace, leaving Mat to blush deeper.

“Uh. Yeah.” Kassi was a trader, best known for stealing fruit from the official crops and selling it to Federation troopers in secret. Sometimes she sold them more than that, but him, never. He didn't want to force the issue. She was beautiful though, with golden skin and long dark hair down to her waist, bosoms threatening to spill out that peasant shirt she wore. She was older than him by eight years or so, but to Mat, that just added to the appeal. She was everything Mat imagined Five women to be when he signed up for the service.

Remembering he was on duty, he forced himself to stop staring at her breasts and do his job. “What are you doing here?” he asked, because that seemed a good question.

Kassi gave him a sheepish grin. “Well, it's a little embarrassing,” she said. “I'm afraid I left some things in Commissioner Truon's quarters. Nothing you'd find interesting – old jewellery, a necklace my mother made me. I've tried to get it back before, but the troopers round here, they want to impress him so much, they'd shoot a fly if it tried to sneak in. I figured if the Sixers were coming back, I might have more luck with them.”

Kerters narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He didn't seem to buy her story. “You know Commission Truon, do you?”

“Oh, we're very close.”

Mat felt an irrational stab of jealousy then. His eyes drifted to the woman standing behind her – she was shorter than Kassi, younger, and a lot less attractive, with a thick body and cropped brown hair. Clearly fit though. Mat wouldn't like to take her on without a gun.

Kerters snorted. “Oh, I believe that,” he said. “But if you're so close, why not just ask him to give it back to you?”

Kassi wasn't phased for a moment. “I'm not going to bother him with _this_ ,” she said. “I can barely get a word in edgeways to him these days anyway. You know how busy he is.” Mat chuckled at that. Fair enough. _They_ could barely get a word in to Commissioner Truon, and reporting to them was, as long as they were on this planet, their job. “Really, I just want to get my things, and then be gone, without anyone having to know I was here. I'm a free trader after all, and getting sucked into the bureaucracy is never good for business.”

This didn't seem to convince Kerters, but Mat gave him a nudge. “Let her in. We can trust her.” Kerters gave him a look, and he shrugged. “And besides, do you want to be the one to tell Commissioner Truon you gave his girlfriend a hard time?”

That seemed to sway Kerters. Painfully ambitious, that one. Seemed to think he'd end up on Earth if only he worked hard enough. Mat wasn't sure he saw the point. “Alright,” Kerters said, turning back to Kassi. “You've got five minutes. Any longer than that, I'll put out the alert that there's an intruder in the building.”

“Thank you.” Kassi seemed much relieved. Mat hoped she'd remember who got her in later – indeed she squeezed his arm before she walked through the door. “Bye, Mat. I'll see you soon.”

The other woman followed after her. Mat considered stopping her, saying they'd only agreed for Kassi to go in, not anyone else, but it didn't seem to matter. Even Kerters didn't protest.

* * *

“I can't believe that worked.”

Henna followed Kassi at a brisk pace, the other woman's hand wrapped around her wrist and leading her on, a slight tremble giving away she wasn't quite as confident as she acted. “I told you he fancied me, didn't I?” Kassi seemed to smile as she strode. That made Henna frown.

“Yes, I believed you,” she mumbled. Kassi didn't hear her. “Was that really necessary?” she asked, louder.

“Was what?”

“That kiss.”

Kassi lead her to a flight of cold concrete stairs, and then turned around to look at her. She sighed deeply. “Now is hardly the time for jealousy.”

“I'm not jealous,” said Henna, pouting sullenly, all the while aware that yes, she was jealous, of _course_ she was jealous. Kassi knew it too, but was good enough not to mention it.

“Come on, this way.”

As they scaled the curling heights of the stairs, Henna watched the ground give way to sky out the windows, and clutched the fire escape for support. She'd never been in a building this tall before. “You know your way around here, huh?”

Three stairs above her, Kassi stopped again. “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

Henna swallowed hard. She knew she was being foolish, but– “Was it true, what you said about Commissioner Truon?”

Kassi flinched. That told Henna everything she needed to know. “You've always known I'd do anything for the cause.”

“I know.” _I know now._ But what was Henna angry about? That Kassi had slept with someone who wasn't her? She knew about that, that Kassi slept with dozens of Federation troopers, and earned much valuable information that way. It was a sacrifice Henna would have loathed to make herself, and so she was grateful every day to her lover for doing it.

Perhaps it was the sheer specificity of it. She had never met Commissioner Truon, but she had seen his picture, watched him broadcast threats and propaganda in the town square. She knew what he looked like. She could imagine what it would be to see him fucking Kassi...

“Hen.” Kassi looked pained by her reaction. She quickly came back down to kiss her reassuringly. “I promise, I was thinking of you the whole time.” Her lips were soft and sweet against Henna's own, and yes, Henna knew that. Kassi was the one who brought her this far, who taught her a better world was possible, and she trusted her absolutely. “And it will all be over soon, won't it?”

Yes. Yes it would. Truon, Mat, all of them – they would all be gone in a matter of minutes, and then she and Kassi would be free. Until reinforcements showed up, anyway.

“Alright,” said Henna, earning Kassi's brilliant grin. “Show me the way.”

They kept climbing stairs. Henna wasn't certain where they were going. They were told they needed to get to a central location – Henna assumed that meant central in regards to width and length, she didn't think of height. She was so unsophisticated in so many ways. Still, she believed Kassi knew what she was doing, and so if Kassi thought they were meant to climb to the fifth floor, so they would.

By the time they made it they were both out of breath, Kassi grabbing her arm again to help her keep up, metal now hot against Henna's belly. How long had that guard given them, five minutes? How much time had they spent climbing?

On the fifth floor they exited the concrete steps and the building returned to luxury, red carpets and shimmering peach wallpaper. Henna gasped as she felt her feet on the ground. She thought she'd never felt anything as rich. “Here.” Kassi shepherded her into a room – it seemed to be some sort of supply cupboard, full of mops and soap, except it was bigger than you'd expect, with a window to the north.

Once they were inside Kassi closed the door, and looked at her seriously. “Do you have it?”

Henna nodded. Hurriedly she started stripping her shirt off, the bomb heavy against her body. “Thank god they didn't search us,” she muttered as Kassi took it from her. She'd been told they wouldn't, but if they did, she still wasn't sure what she was meant to do.

“I'll get to work on this,” Kassi said, laying it along the floor. She nodded. It was Kassi Tate had taught to set off the explosion, Henna was more or less here as backup. “You, keep an eye out the window. I want to know if those guards are after us.”

Five minutes, had it been five minutes? Henna wasn't sure, so she peered out the window with anxiety. She didn't see the two men from before, but was she even facing the right direction?

Looking out the window made her feel queasy, sharp anxiety settling in her stomach. She knew the glass in the windows was thick enough (she knew that from the time rebels attempted to break into the building by shooting at them. Needless to say, it went poorly). Still, she couldn't shake the feeling she would slip right through and plummet to the ground, or worse, disappear into nothingness, swallowed up by the void below. She'd never been in a building so tall before.

“Kassi,” she looked away from the window, suddenly thinking of a question she should have asked long ago. “How are we meant to get out of here?”

Two wires in hand, Kassi looked up at her, with a puzzled frown. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we can hardly jump from this height, can we?” she said. “Can we go back the way we came, or would that be too suspicions? Those guards gave us five minutes. Is that enough time to clear the blast radius?”

As she carried on, Kassi watched her with a look of dawning horror. “No-one told you.”

“Told me what?” Henna didn't understand until, suddenly, she did. “...We're not meant to get out of here, are we?”

Kassi averted her eyes. “I thought you knew. I thought everyone did. Trying to escape – you're right, it would be too suspicious, give them too much time to find the bomb and deactivate it. I thought we both knew this was a suicide mission.” She pauses. “Did Tate really not tell you?”

Dumbfounded, Henna could only shake her head. She looked back out the window, feeling sicker than before.

“Well, I'm almost ready.”

“What?!” Henna spun back around, seeing sure enough, Kassi had done almost everything, and now had only two little wires left to connect. She started to panic. “ _I'm_ not ready! I can't, not now, I haven't–” This wasn't how it was meant to be. This was meant to be the first day of the rest of their lives, free from careful eye of the Federation, this was meant to be the first day they'd be able to live and love on their own terms – not–

“Hen, Hen!” Kassi rose to her feet and swept her into an embrace, bomb tucked carefully under one arm. “I know. I know. God, I'm so sorry.” Henna took comfort from the warm embrace of her body, even as cold metal wires scratched her skin and made her shiver. “But we've come too far now. We'd never make it out if we tried to run, and we can't miss this opportunity. The entire standing Federation force on Axom 5, in one place. If we don't wipe them out now, we might never get the chance again.” She was really serious about this, wasn't she?

Still Henna hesitated, and Kassi kissed her brow to soothe her. “My poor girl. My poor, brave, beautiful girl. I know you never asked for this, and believe me, I have every intention of haunting Tate 'til the end of eternity for not telling you. But it has to be done. And you always said you wanted to die fighting the Federation.”

“I meant I thought they'd shoot me in a battle!” Henna said. At least, she hoped they'd shoot her, or something else quick and easy. She had said that, but it hadn't felt real at the time, not like it felt now. “I didn't volunteer to blow myself up!”

Kassi looked pained. Even now, Henna hated herself for hurting her lover. “You'll do this no matter what I say, won't you?”

“I have to, Hen.” He voice was starting to break. “I can't go back...”

Slowly, Henna nodded. She did understand. Kassi couldn't fail this task. She couldn't bring herself to return empty-handed, to be a thief and a smuggler again, fucking and fleecing the men they meant to kill for survival. She couldn't do it, and Henna wouldn't _let_ her do it. Hadn't they both given their lives to the cause long ago? This was just the cause collecting on its debts.

“Alright,” she said, trying to hide how hard she was shaking. “I love you.”

Kassi smiled at that, sadly, and moved in to kiss her again. Henna poured her soul into the kiss, knowing it would be their last. “I know. I love you too,” Kassi murmured against her lips. “And in the next life, we will be together forever.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” They kissed again, and then Kassi, with a deep shudder, passed her the box.

“What do I–?”

“Just stand there.” When Kassi took the two wires, her hands were shaking too. That was almost reassuring. “On the count of three. One... two... thr–”

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Henna gasped in shock as Kassi's eyes went blank, and she slumped to the ground, dead. She was surrounded by Federation troops, guns pointed directly at her. “On your knees, now!”

Instinctively, Henna did as she was told, before she realised what she was holding. “Nobody move!” she shouted, which made the section leader look rather annoyed, as if that was his line. She clutched the bomb to her chest, her lover's body lying not two feet away. “Or else I blow us all sky high!” Hands still shaking, she grabbed the wires herself. Kassi was dead, but she could still do this, she couldn't take them all out with her, she could make sure Kassi didn't die for nothing–

_Thump._

Then everything went black.

* * *

As the girl sprawled across the floor, sheltering the bomb with her body, Mat looked up at his superior in disbelief. “Bloody hell, that was risky!” he shouted. “What if the damn thing had gone off?”

Kerters, still with the butt of the gun he'd used to knock the woman out pointed at her head, shrugged. “I don't think it would have. The weapon was fairly primitive. See those scratchings in the wires right there?” Mat couldn't see a bloody thing, but he figured he'd have to take Kerters' word for it. “I don't think it would have gone off unless she managed to connect them in the exact right fashion. She didn't seem too up on the details of the plan. I doubt she could have killed us all if she tried.”

That still seemed like a bloody big risk for Kerters to take with all their lives, but Mat was sure if he said that Kerters would inform him that it was their job to take educated risks, to be willing to give their lives for the Federation. _Ladder-climbing prick._ “Well done, Kerters,” said Commission Truon as he entered the room, men parting for him like seawater. “A good show of initiative, I reckon. If you hadn't acted when you did, we'd all be dead by now. I will mention that in my next report.”

_Brilliant, now he's definitely going to get that promotion._ Mat tried not to sigh audibly. The second Kassi and the other one had left their sight, Kerters had decided he didn't trust them, and that they ought to alert the commissioner. Mat hadn't wanted to interrupt the ceremony, but Truon told them to keep an eye out, and if they didn't come back after the agreed upon five minutes, go looking for them. They hadn't, and so Kerters had called to get their fellow recruits to look with them. If he hadn't, or if they'd waited a second longer, they really would all be dead. Now, only Kassi was.

Mat grimaced as he looked at her body on the floor. Kassi, a traitor? He couldn't believe it. She always seemed so normal to him. _They seem just like everyone else,_ they taught him at the academy, and apparently he hadn't internalised that message as much as he'd thought.

“Is she dead?”

_Of course she is, we shot her half a dozen times,_ he thought, before he realised Truon wasn't asking Kerters about Kassi, but the other one. Presumably she had a name. Kerters shook his head. “No, just unconscious.”

“Good,” said Truon. “Take her away, we'll want to interrogate her. I highly doubt the two of them managed this on their own.”

Still insufferably proud of himself, Kerters slung the woman's body over his shoulder, leaving her to sway like a stuffed dolly as he moved. Mat gave Kassi's body one last look, and sighed. He'd wanted her. But he convinced himself that didn't matter. After all, there were plenty of women like her on Axom 6, and even more on Axom 5.


	2. Chapter 2

“Mother?”

Elle stood on one side of the door to outside, her son, scratched, bedraggled and wounded, on the other. She had been this close to running out herself to find him. He had told her, when he left to fight the Andromedans, that he would return for her. She hadn't believed him. She thought she would never see him again, like his father, who died fighting those rebels. She thought...

“Jaks.”

He collapsed through the entrance, limping, and she caught him in her arms. He had gotten to be such a tall, strong young man, but he was still her baby, he always would be. She pulled him close to her and he stroked her hair.

“You're back.”

“I am.” He pulled back to look at her. “I promise, I'll never leave again.”

She shook her head. She had told him not to go, not to throw his life away the same way his father did, but she knew better now. She had learned. “You'll go if you have to,” she said. “I know that. I know what you were fighting for now.” She smiled. “And I am so proud.”

“ _Cut!_ ”

Lulette pulled herself from Heath's arms, wiping the stage tears from her eyes. “You did really well today,” she said, watching him grin bashfully. Bless him, this was his first leading role, and he was still rather nervous and eager for any praise he could get. “Acted me off the screen, if I'm honest with you.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” he laughed. “You know, I still think this script made more sense when we were playing lovers.”

She grinned in return, a little nervous herself, but not unfriendly. “Oh, I'm too old for you, darling, everyone said that.”

“I can't imagine any man rejecting _the_ Lulette for being too old, I have to say.”

While having this conversation Lulette's eyes flickered beside him, and she was relieved to see a runner coming up to her. “Suzy!” She squeezed the girl's arm fondly while she was a foot away. “Did you get my sleeping tablets?”

She felt a little bad for asking Suzy to do that; she should have done it herself yesterday, but she forgot in the rush of packing. And Suzy was always volunteering for any extra work on set; clearly, she had her sights set high, that one. “Here you go, Ma'am.”

“Oh, you're a treasure. And you _can_ call me by my name, you know.”

“Yes Ma'am.”

Lulette laughed as she took the pills from Suzy in a distinctly old-fashioned paper bag. “How did your brother go on his classification test, by the way?”

Suzy looked surprised to be asked. “Oh, very well. They've decided to bump him all the way up to beta grade.”

“Really? That's brilliant!” Suzy sounded less than happy about it though, and Lulette took a moment to wonder why. “It can be a nightmare getting housing in the beta sectors though, can't it? I heard there were shortages. Well, don't worry, if those bureaucrats at the Housing Commission are dragging their heels, tell him he can mention my name and they'll speed right up. I doubt they'd want to get on my bad side.”

Most people laboured under the impression she had no bad side to get on (well, those old enough to realise she wasn't actually Mirelle Montpas), but nonetheless Suzy blinked in surprise. “Oh. Thank you.” Then she scuttled off to return to her very important work, but luckily, their director came up to speak with them before Heath could resume his flirting.

“Well done, you two,” said Adams, sounding like he was rather tired out by a hard day's work. “That was a good take.”

“So are we done for the day?” Not that Lulette was one to skive off, but...

Adams chuckled at her. “Well, your husband's been lurking about, so either we're done for the day or he's after my job.”

Lulette turned her head and sure enough, there was Myk, waiting behind the sea of cameras and microphones. “Myk!” She ran up to embrace him and and kiss his cheek. “What are you doing here? I thought you were waiting for me back home.”

“Can't I surprise my beautiful wife when we're about to go on a romantic getaway?” she grinned. “Don't worry, everything's packed. We just need to hop in the transporter and go.”

Lulette tilted her head to the side. “Including Mitzi?”

“Yes, including Mitzi,” Myk sighed, exasperated.

“Don't be like that!” Gently, playfully, Lulette gave him a reprimanding smack on the arm. “It's not a family holiday without her.”

“Yes, I know Lettie. Don't worry, she's waiting in the transporter.”

Lulette frowned. “You know you're not meant to do that.”

“The temperature control is the same there as anywhere else in the dome! She'll be fine.”

“That doesn't mean no-one can break in and steal her! She's a very pretty dog, after all.”

Myk gave her a look. “Love, you worry too much.”

“I worry a perfectly reasonable amount, thank you.”

With an affectionate chuckle, Myk wound his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, let's get out of here. Sooner we run this gauntlet, the sooner we can head off. I don't know why we can't take a teleport like normal people, you know.”

She pulled a face. “I don't like teleports, you know that. Make me feel like someone is cutting me up and stitching me back together.”

Myk raised an eyebrow. “You know how the planethopper works, right?”

“Yes I _know_ , but that's different, that's professional, not rinky-dink technology cribbed from a bunch of terrorists.” Myk gave her a mildly alarmed look, and Lulette paused, taking a moment to stop her temper running away with her. “Besides, I like seeing my fans. They're sweet.”

“You like having your ego stroked, you mean,” he teased her.

She grinned at him. “Is it my worst vice?”

“Well it's one of your cheaper ones.”

With another playful smack, she opened the doors to where her fans were waiting, and they gasped and shrieked to see her.

* * *

They got through the crowd of fans pretty quickly, all things considered – there weren't that many of them, only a couple of dozen. _I must be going downhill,_ Lulette thought, trying not to pout – she was getting on a bit, it was to be expected. Anyway, they'd made it out of there after she'd asked after Anya's husband and done Mirelle's catchphrase for them – _you know I hate to be outplayed, especially by you._ She thought it sounded rather scratchy, but well, she was out of practice. Anyway, once she explained that their dog was waiting for them, the fans were all very sweet and apologetic and eager to get out of the way, so they made it out in record time.

“Guess you're not so useless after all,” Myk muttered to a yapping Mitzi as they reached their transporter, waiting for them on the line.

“Aww, don't say that,” Lulette said as she hopped into the back, pulling her baby girl onto her lap. “Ignore him, daddy's just cranky. Mummy still loves you.” Mitzi leaned up to lick her face eagerly, and she laughed. “You have to get all the dirt off my face now, do you? Okay.”

“Destination: bank,” Myk told the transporter, to her mild surprise. “I want to pick up some credit crystals before we leave, that's all,” he said by way of explanation. “We'll head to the planet hopper after that.”

She nodded. Myk was always telling her about how unreliable the credit system was on other worlds – Verizon was such a popular holiday destination she doubted they'd have any trouble, but still, better safe than sorry.

They got there very quickly – see people _did_ get around before teleports, she thought as they went over a bump in the cable, wincing at the impact. The lines weren't very well maintained now most people didn't use them – one day there would be an accident. She sighed. Perhaps she could have a word to Anders about that, or even Aimi, but it seemed like such a petty thing to worry them with. Not when they had the whole Federation to deal think about.

“One second,” Myk told her before opening the door. Lulette smiled obligingly, but Mitzi let out a loud growl.

“Oi!” Lulette exclaimed, looking down at her baby girl in shock. “What was that for?”

Myk chuckled. “Must be a treat around here somewhere, she thinks I'm going to rob her,” he said. “I'll be back in a second, promise.”

* * *

Stazy tapped her fingers upon the desk nervously, annoyed the demands of professionalism wouldn't let her pace. _Deep breaths,_ she reminded herself, relieved there were no other customers for now. She could do this. She was just doing her job. Her sister had met Myk Frisson while working as a caterer, at some fancy event, and she said he was very nice. Therefore, no matter how annoyed he was, he probably wouldn't take it out on her.

God, why couldn't her boss have done this himself?

She tapped her fingers harder as she watched Frisson walk through the door, so hard she forced herself to stop, afraid she might shatter them. At least she'd been warned that Myk Frisson would probably be coming in today, expecting to make a withdrawal before his getaway, and she would have to be the one to tell him no. She could just have easily had said _of course sir,_ the way she always would to such a basic request from such an important man, and been shocked and alarmed when the system froze her out.

“Ah, hello,” Frisson grinned at her while approaching the desk, the grin of a man who had to deal with strangers every day, and new how to handle them expertly. “I put in a request for some credit crystals this morning, I hope they're ready? My wife's waiting for me in the transporter, you see.”

Stazy swallowed a lump in her throat. Lulette Frisson; she'd grown up seeing her on the vizscreen every other week, in one thing or another. But she couldn't let that distract her. _Moment of truth, Staze._ “I'm afraid that won't be possible, sir,” she said, and thankfully her voice did not shake.

Frisson looked puzzled, but not angry, thank goodness. “Well, if they're not ready yet, that's irritating, but we can wait awhile–”

“I'm afraid it won't be possible for you to access your accounts for a long time, sir.” That left Frisson looking taken aback, and Stazy found herself explaining: “they've been frozen. This account, and all accounts associated with you... or your wife.”

He kept looking at her, clearly confused but not saying anything, and Stazy averted her eyes bashfully. She knew she shouldn't say any more, she'd get a word from the boss if she did, but his scrutiny weakened her, and she found herself blathering: “Apparently, security says they've found... suspicious transactions, from this account.”

Silence. Nervously, Stazy darted her eyes back up, to see Frisson swallow hard before he finally spoke.

“This is the joint account, yes?”

“Yes?” Stazy didn't see why he would ask such a thing. “Does that matter?”

“Oh,” Frisson's mouth quirked into something like a smile. “I think it matters a great deal.”


	3. Chapter 3

Onion, of the earth. Cinnamon, of the trees. Rainwater, of the skies. Of course, the scents were all artificial, grown in Federation labs half the galaxy away, but under the circumstances she thought her ancestors would understand. She'd never even _seen_ real cinnamon.

Knelt on the floor with her left breast bared, Maisha placed the three scent emitters left, right and in front of herself as she would a candle, or a small fire. Then she pressed her hands together before lowering the right to the ground, and her head with it, the left remaining in the air. It wasn't an easy position to hold, but she didn't think the prayers were meant to be easy. “Ancestors – mother of my father, father of my mother, hear me.” _Mother – can you hear me up there? Or are you still alive?_ “Give me wisdom, give me patience.” She took a deep breath. “Give me strength against that which oppresses me.”

That was all she had to say, really. She squeezed her hand as if to catch something, and then lowered it to the ground. She held her position a good few seconds. The old texts said you should remain _until the flames burnt dead,_ but that wasn't really viable for her, so she simply stayed still as long as she dared.

Which didn't turn out to be very long, as her communicator started beeping at her. She sighed as she pushed herself back onto her knees, reaching to turn off the scent emitters (they could raise suspicions, although they were all perfectly legally obtained) and turn on the lights before answering.

“Chocolate,” came the voice from the wall as Maisha pushed the button to listen. She frowned, hoisting her gown to cover her breast again. She wasn't stubborn enough to get herself arrested for indecent exposure.

“A patient?” she asked, to Viyon's smooth, informative voice.

“Male, age approximately mid-fifties. Unconscious. Merchant grade. Suspected heart attack. In undersector Beta-12-Bihar, please hurry, Mai.”

“I'm on my way.” She switched the communicator off and slipped into her boots, then she left her small apartment for the trees and the forests.

Myrna was lucky, really, that the Federation valued its lumber enough they wouldn't destroy it entirely; the woods gave good cover, even for underground tunnels.

As she descended the ladder Maisha ran her hand along the walls, as her mother had taught her when she was a child, checking that it would not collapse on her without warning. Of course, by this time it was largely unnecessary; rebels had used these tunnels for so long that anything that could collapse on them would have already done so.

Beta-12-Bihar was her usual surgery, and so it didn't take her long to reach it, for convenience's sake. Viyon greeted her with a kiss on the cheek (something that above ground troopers found foreign and hence, suspicious) and a pail of hot water. “Quickly, we might not have much time.”

Maisha nodded, her eyes drifting to the man who lay upon the stretcher, out cold and helpless. Viyon only brought patients to her when they were beyond his ability to help, and hence she almost never got to speak to them. That was probably a good thing, for safety's sake, but her human curiosity was always piqued – who were these people whose lives she had to save? Would they ever know what she had done for them? She knew the merchant grade suffered worst from the Federation's enforced separation, with no-one to buy from or sell to except, of course, _them_ , but apart from that her knowledge was limited. She didn't even know what grade Viyon was.

She dipped her hands in the water and scrubbed, not betraying a flinch. “Alright. Let's get to work.”

* * *

It wasn't an easy surgery, all things considered. Of course, surgery was never _easy_ , especially when you weren't really a doctor, little more than an old-fashioned apothecary, but the best so much of this planet could rely on. Maisha trudged home with a deep weariness in her bones, leaves falling into her hair and glinting with moonlight. The man would survive, she thought. She hoped.

All she wanted was to crawl into her bed and get a good night's sleep, but as she entered her apartment she realised it would not be that simple. It would not be that simple because there were two troopers sitting on her couch, waiting for her.

Maisha gritted her teeth and steeled herself to be polite.

“Gentlemen.” She did not bother to ask what they were doing here. Good troopers had a way of getting into everything, that was what made them good. “Can I help you with something?”

“Miss Mayalam,” one of them greeted her with a strange Earth accent, the mark of an outsider. “It's rather late at night to be coming home, isn't it? We were waiting for you. Starting to get worried. Where have you been?”

“Visiting friends,” she said, voice not skipping a beat even as her heart did. She was deep embedded in the underground, and they were good at covering for one another. “That's not against the law, is it?” She knew she shouldn't test them, but...

“Oh, no, of course not,” said the other trooper, rising to his feet as the first stood dead still. “So long as you feel safe walking the forests at night. If necessary, our men would always be willing to accompany you. For your protection, of course.”

“It isn't.” Maisha forced herself not to grit her teeth. “But thank you, for the offer.”

“Oh, it's no trouble.” No, she didn't think it was. The people of Myrna rarely went in for violent rebellion – not since the pacification programme, at least (what did they call it now? _The Reunion,_ with distinctly capital letters). The troopers whose job it was to guard them probably got awfully bored. Following pretty girls around and pretending it was work was probably one of their favourite hobbies.

The first trooper gave her a strange look, from head to toe. “That dress.” Instinctively, Maisha's hand flew to her closure, making sure she'd done it up properly. No, her breasts were both modestly concealed. They had nothing to get her for, not even something as petty as that. “Aren't you cold?”

Anger spiked in her belly. Myrna never really got cold enough to require clothes other than their traditional robes, that's _why_ their traditional clothes were what they were, and yet the Federation could never accept that. The troopers walked around sweltering in black leather, and acted as if the rest of them were strange for not doing so.

“Not particularly,” she said, feeling uncomfortably like a sheep being herded by dogs. _It isn't their fault._ “I'm not exposing anything inappropriate, am I? This is all perfectly legal, yes?”

“Legal, yes,” said the second trooper, with a voice that seemed to say a million other things, few of which she could understand. One thing rang out clear to her however: _I'm in danger._ “You're a medical student, aren't you, Miss Mayalam?”

“Yes.” She hadn't wanted to be. She had wanted to learn from the old texts, as her mother had, not to ingratiate herself with the Federation and its soulless bureaucracy that had destroyed the wisdom their people had been building for centuries. _Don't be a fool,_ Viyon had told her. _The old universities are gone, you can't learn like your mother did. The Federation are the only ones who can train you to be a doctor. We need good doctors. Isn't it better, to use their cruelties against them?_

“You ought to be careful,” said the first trooper, rising to his feet to encircle her. “You have a bright future ahead of you. We've read your reports. You're good enough you could make it all the way to Earth, tending to the height of Federation command.” _I would rather die._ She learnt all she had to be of use to her people, not to help the spoiled brats back on Earth stave off a richly-deserved death. “It would be sad to see such a promising career snuffed out by your insistence on following these... quaint traditions.”

Maisha grinned at him, as pleasantly as she could while still feeling like she was a wolf bearing her teeth. “I assure you, sir, I am a thoroughly modern woman,” she said. “Will that be all?”

She knew very well how much had not been said here, that they must know she was somehow involved with the resistance, that she could destroy them all if she wasn't careful, but what she ought to do about it was something she could think about when she wasn't so bone-deep tired.

The two troopers shared a look. “Yes, that will be all.”

The first wasn't so sure though, hesitating as the second headed for her door. “Cinnamon,” he said, to everyone else's confusion. “Is that what I smell?”

Internally, Maisha cursed. She had been so worried about scrubbing the smell of blood off her, she hadn't thought that the scent of her prayers earlier might linger. “It helps me sleep at night,” she explained, as if she wasn't petrified. “That's not against the law, is it?”

Trooper Number One poked his head back through her door, scrutinising her carefully. “No, it isn't,” he said. “Not yet.”

With that they were gone, and Maisha let out an exhale, slumping against her wall. Alright, that had been deeply, deeply unpleasant, but she wasn't dead. Not yet.


	4. Chapter 4

“Betsy, Betsy come look! Come, come look!”

“What are you doing now?” Betsy gave a resigned groan as she got up off his bed, walking over to peer across his shoulder has he tapped at his computer. “And how illegal is it?”

“Oh, only mildly.” Betsy didn't exactly seem reassured by that. Of course, other boys of his age might have invited a girl to their bedroom for other reasons, but not him – he had known Betsy since he was what, eleven, twelve, it wouldn't do to just proposition her, like she was some Delta grade service worker, or worse some officially designated match Federation HQ had selected to be perfectly sexually compatible with him, so why bother with the arduous and inefficient process of romance and courtship?

He and Betsy were friends, first and foremost. Alright, maybe some day he would like to marry her, but if he didn't, well, there were worse fates in the universe, after all.

“Brilliant,” she muttered, but couldn't quite keep back an affectionate smile. “Well go on, show off at me.” She gestured at the monitor.

Noll grinned. “I've found a back door into the government communication systems – the ones they use to send orders to the fleet. Punch in the right number, and...”

As he typed, Betsy squeezed his shoulder, eyes wide with alarm. “Noll, are you insane?” she asked. “Do you have any idea how dangerous–”

But it was too late, Noll soon heard the buzzing from his computer telling him he was now broadcasting loud and clear on Federation Cargo Carrier F-8 612. He'd chosen the number at random, really, but he did try and find someone who wasn't doing anything particularly urgent.

“Good evening, Cargo Carrier F-8 612! How are you doing today?”

The buzz of an open intercom system emanated from his computer terminal, as whoever was on the other end of the connection took a long time to respond.

“...Jason, is that you?”

Noll frowned. “Who's Jason?” he asked, before he realised he was probably whoever-he-was-talking-to's superior. These cargo ships had to report to someone, after all. “My name's Noll Evis, and I'm a seventeen year old computer trainee from Ganymede.” He pressed a few buttons, pulling up the carrier's ship and personnel files. “And your name's... Deca, is it?”

“Well, that's not a bit unsettling,” said Deca, but he chuckled. The files said he was in his fifties, and he sounded it. “Yeah, that's me. You're lucky these cargo hauls are so dull, son. Otherwise I might be annoyed.”

“Sorry.” In hindsight, Noll was starting to feel a bit bad for just bursting in like that, but Deca didn't seem so unhappy to have some company, even virtual company. “Well anyway, this is my friend...”

He turned to Betsy, expecting her to introduce herself, but her eyes went wide and she shook her head furiously. Noll frowned. Weird. He'd never known her to be shy around strangers. “Nevermind. I don't have a friend,” he said.

“Right,” Deca sounded bemused, but didn't push. “Well, Noll Evis, do you make a habit of contacting random men out of the blue?” He sounded a touch uneasy.

“Well, not really, since I only just got the hang of it.” He wonders if that's really reassuring. “But hey, you don't have to be a stranger. God knows Ganymede always needs more supplies. If you're in the area you could stop by–”

Silence. Noll got the impression he'd made the man considerably more uneasy. “You probably shouldn't say things like that, son.”

“Why not?”

“Well–”

_Bang!_

Noll jumped, taking a second to realise the sound had come from the computer. “Deca?” he asked. “What was that?”

“I'm not sure,” Deca murmured, as in the background alarms started to go off. That didn't sound good. “Something's wrong with the computer.”

“The computer?” Noll perked up. Maybe he could be helpful here. “What is it, can you explain?”

“I think–”

_Bang!_

It was louder this time, and after it, everything went dead. “Deca? Deca!” he cried out, but there was nothing to answer him, not even the soft buzz of the comms.

He sat back, baffled and frightened. “What happened?” he whispered.

“Nothing.”

He turned his head to see Betsy getting up, clearly as panicked as he was, hurriedly grabbing her things. He'd almost forgotten she was there. “What do you mean, 'nothing'?” Her response baffled him almost as much as what they'd heard. “Something must have happened, Bets, you heard those noises – we _heard_ –”

“We didn't hear anything!” Betsy cried out. She made Noll jump. “And you know why we didn't hear anything? Because we weren't _illegally spying on confidential Federation communications!_ ”

Noll swallowed hard. Alright, he'd realised Betsy wasn't exactly comfortable with breaking the law, but– “It was just a cargo carrier. I didn't think anyone would care.”

Betsy gave the computer terminal an uneasy look, like she thought it was watching her. “Clearly, someone did.”

That just left him blinking at her, bewildered, and when Betsy returned her gaze to his face she bit her lip nervously. “Come on, Noll. Surely even you're not so naïve–” she shook her head. “Whatever. Just, promise me you won't go prying into this, okay?” That left Noll even more taken aback. Was that an option? “This is nothing to do with you. You just happened to be listening in when you shouldn't be, and if you're smart, you'll forget you ever were. Whatever happened, you can't do anything about it _now._ So what's the point of getting yourself in trouble for it?”

Betsy's voice got higher the longer she spoke, before cracking over the word 'trouble'. Noll didn't know what she was afraid of, but she was clearly afraid, terrified. “Alright,” he said, just to reassure her, although he wasn't quite sure what he was agreeing to.

She didn't look all that assuaged, really, but she finished putting her things back in her bag anyway. “Okay. Now, I better head home. I promised my mum I'd help her with dinner tonight.”

Betsy got up and walked out the door, Noll following her nervously. They left to the smell of his mother boiling a pot of beef concentrate stew on the stove.

“Ah, Betsy,” said Mum, turning around to smile at them. “You two have been shut in there an awfully long time. What have you been up to?”

Noll cringed. He'd shut the door so his mother wouldn't hear him up to mischief – she did tend to worry so – but given he'd been shut in there with a girl, and he was seventeen years old, he couldn't blame her for having her own ideas about what they might be up to.

“Oh, nothing,” said Betsy, which wasn't very convincing, but hopefully Mum would assume they were just having sex and not anything more suspicious.

“I see,” said Mum, returning to her soup. “Are you staying for dinner then?”

“Afraid not, Fia,” Betsy explained. “I promised my mother I'd help her with tea.”

Mum smiled at her. “You are a good girl,” she said, while Tifi, strewn across the sofa where she was playing some game or other on the vizscreen, made a noise of protest.

“Hey! You said you'd teach me how to French braid my hair!”

Betsy laughed. “Another time, I promise,” she said, and Suzu, perched on the arm of the sofa because Tifi was taking the rest of it up, elbowed her in the shoulder.

“You shouldn't be wasting your time anyway. Don't you have school assignments to do?”

Tifi, in all her thirteen year old adolescent glory, rolled her eyes dramatically, while Suzu maintained the vibe of a strict disciplinarian as much as a ten year old possibly could. Noll did find his little sisters had a habit of being insufferably adorable, and Betsy laughed. “Alright, I better head home before a fight breaks out.” She said goodbye to his mother with a kiss on the cheek, before staring at him awkwardly. “Noll, I'll... see you soon.”

For the most part, she had done an admirable job acting like nothing had happened, and as soon as she was out the door Tifi started to snicker. “Noll has a girlfriend...”

Noll still felt shaken enough by everything that happened with Deca that he barely registered the words, before he remembered that _he_ was meant to be acting like nothing had happened too. He walked across the room to grab a cushion and throw it at her. “You shut up!”

Tifi shrieked: “Help, help, I'm being attacked!” while Suzu smartly ducked out of the way.

“Oh, stop it you lot,” said Mum, but she couldn't help smiling at her children making a scene. “Your soup's almost ready. Maybe that'll get some sense into you.”

On the whole, Noll thought he made an admirable effort at acting like nothing had happened. Indeed, after enough time with his family, talking and bickering like they would any other night, it started to feel like what happened that afternoon was just a strange dream, not real at all.

That lasted until the clock in the corner of the room beeped nineteen-hundred, and Suzu oh so seriously insisted they turn on the vizscreen to watch the news.

When they did they were greeted with a report about a fatal shuttle crash, out in the Kyper Belt, in which the pilot tragically lost his life. Apparently his first name was Deca.

Noll didn't let anything show on his face, but deep down he thought _oh_.


	5. Chapter 5

Pink acryllic nails tapped against the glass coffee table anxiously. Lulette flinched, the noise obnoxious even to her own ears, but she couldn't help it. With the other hand, she stroked Mitzi's fur. “It's going to be alright,” she whispered, even though her dog was happily snoozing, nowhere near the nervous wreck her owner was quickly turning into.

Lulette sighed heavily. She had to snap out of it before Myk got back – she was trying not to let on to him how much this having their assets frozen was affecting her, not when he was going to so much effort to get the matter resolved, always at some meeting or other (she'd offered to come along, but he'd told her not to, because the government bureaucrats could be so rude and if they talked to her like that, he'd lose his temper). Better she be the one of them handling it serenely, that she calm him down whenever he came home and they still had not a credit they could use, secure in the knowledge that everything would be alright in the end.

Myk's habit of hoarding credit crystals just in case had come in handy, even if they never got to go on their holiday. They still had enough they could pay for food and necessities – for another couple of weeks, at least, even if it raised questions as to why _the_ Lulette was venturing outside to get her food, not just having it delivered.

Lulette had always enjoyed going among people, with a certain degree of security that is, mingling and appreciating the people who gave her her career. But she was increasingly going off it. She knew whispers were going around, newscasters hinting that the Frissons were in some sort of trouble, although no-one seemed to know what it was. Not that Lulette knew either.

Things would be alright though, wouldn't they? After all, Lulette knew she hadn't done anything wrong. She was sure the authorities would see that. If not, Anders would put a stop to it soon enough.

While she brooded, she was startled by a knock on the door. _Myk!_ she thought, relieved, and swung open the door before thinking why he would have to knock on the door to his own home.

Instead of Myk there were two security in front of her, in full uniform apart from the helmets. A shiver went down her spine, but she didn't let it show. “Oh, hello gentlemen,” she said, with her most charming smile. “Can I help you with something?”

A growl emanated from beside her feet. Mitzi had noticed the visitors, and quickly started yapping at them. “Mitzi!” Lulette reached down to pick her up, soothing her hurriedly. “Sorry. She gets a bit nervous around strangers, that's all.”

Mitzi settled down as Lulette stroked her chin, although she still growled a little. The two men, unsettlingly, didn't react. “Can we come in?”

Lulette nodded, taking a seat on her sofa again – they didn't sit down next to her, which was even more unsettling, but she wouldn't show them that being smaller than them bothered her. What did she have to be frightened of? “Would you like a drink?” she asked.

“No thank you,” said one of the two men – he was taller, and looked older, so she presumed he was the one in charge. “I hope you're aware of why we're here?”

Lulette hesitated. “Not... exactly, no,” she said. “I mean, I know our accounts have been frozen–”

“And _why_ have they been frozen, Mrs. Frisson?”

“I–” Well, she was rather hoping they could tell her that. _Suspicious transactions,_ was all they had told Myk, and hence that was all she knew. “Suspicious transactions, Myk said. But I assure you–”

“We've traced the money, Mrs. Frisson,” said the older guard. “It took some time, you covered your tracks very well. But we found it. In the hands of several well-known terrorist organisations.”

“ _Terrorism_?” Lulette boggled. She thought they might have messed something up on their tax returns, something silly like that, something easily smoothed over, but funding killers– “No, I would never, I'm as loyal as they come, everyone knows that.” Hadn't she volunteered to do the informational vizcasts on Myrna? Hadn't she flown all the way there to help the government distribute food and medical supplies? Hell, hadn't she gotten into god knows how many fights at drunken parties, driven to the point of rage by her colleagues and their barely hidden rebel-sympathies, when none of them had ever met a real rebel or had any idea what they were capable of?

“The money doesn't lie, Mrs. Frisson.”

This had to be a nightmare. How could anyone ever doubt her loyalty? Lulette shook her head. “Just – my husband will be back soon, just wait okay, I'm sure this is all some terrible misunderstanding–”

The younger trooper snorted. “Don't expect him to come save you,” he said. “He's as disgusted with your behaviour as anyone. He's been invaluable to our investigation, in fact.”

Lulette gawped. No, that couldn't be true, could it? Some troopers she'd never met, she could understand why they would suspect her, it was nothing personal, but Myk knew her. Trusted her. Loved her. He wouldn't think she could do such a thing, would he?

All of a sudden Mitzi snapped, barking her little lungs out as as scrambled to get out of Lulette's arms. Then there was a _bang!_ Lulette jumped, and Mitzi whimpered.

The younger guard had just dislodged a plasma bullet into her living room window. A long crack ran down the glass.

“You shut that damn dog up, or the next one goes in its head.”

“Kent,” his superior admonished him, but Lulette clutched Mitzi to her breast, terrified. _He wouldn't really, he's only bluffing, can you imagine the scandal?_

None the less she hurried to the hallway entrance, putting Mitzi down on the other side of it, closing the door on her. “Shh, Mitz, you'll be safe there,” she said, and tried to ignore the needy scratching.

When she turned back around the two men were waiting for her, the younger one still with a hand on his gun. Lulette tried her best to steel herself. “Am I under arrest?” she asked.

“Yes. One way or another,” the older guard told her. Lulette looked over her shoulder nervously, and he sighed. “Like you said, your husband will be home soon. Your dog will be fine.”

Lulette smiled faintly. Well, that was one less thing to worry about. Somehow it wasn't as reassuring as it ought to be.

“Come on,” said the younger man, charging up to her with a bracelet in hand. She recoiled instinctively.

“A teleport?” she asked, voice almost breaking. “I hate teleports.”

The man glared at her. “Tough. We've wasted enough time on you,” he said. “Now do you want us to push you to the ground and force it on you?”

Lulette shuddered. She could think of nothing she wanted less. “Alright,” she said, but when he reached to clamp it on her wrist she still pulled away. “Give it here.” Quickly and rather recklessly, she grabbed it from him, closing it around her own arm. Then she closed her eyes, waiting to be torn apart.


	6. Chapter 6

Onion, cinnamon, rainwater, Maisha's life followed a certain pattern. She attended her classes, she played the perfect student, she imagined she dreamed of going to Earth and using her skills there as every young scholar did. She couldn't let them know how she was planning on undermining their authority with everything they taught her.

It was only had the endweek she had time enough to use that knowledge, words echoing through her walls (endweek and midweek, those were their days of rest before the Federation conquered them properly – at least, that's what her mother taught her). Endweek was the time of learning, from any source that would have her, drinking up the healing knowledge until it seemed to gush from her like a waterfall.

If the public face of Maisha Mayalam had one vice, it was that she never seemed to get enough sleep. Late night secret surgeries did not lend well to an in-tune circadian rhythm, so she hoped her fellow classmates thought she was off partying or screwing as they might be, those of a thoroughly irreligious lifestyle, but nothing more suspicious than that.

Her real life was ever so humble, one of studying and prayers (to her, they were more or less one and the same), to the extent even her communicator interrupting her was a shock.

“Chocolate.”

For a second Maisha wanted to ignore it, to keep droning over this textbook written by people she hated. She couldn't say why, she just felt exhausted. Why did she have to come to the rescue whenever anyone on this planet fell ill? Couldn't it be someone else's turn?

But no, that wasn't how it worked. If she didn't come there would be no-one else. And so she rushed to the communicator. “Patient?”

“Female, late teens. Worker grade. Conscious, suffering vomiting and diarrhoea. Suspected poisoning. Located in sector Beta-12-Bihar. Please, hurry.”

Maisha cursed under her breath. Poisoning, of course. Poisoning was the easiest thing in the world to treat if only you had the right antidote, but if you didn't, you were fucked.

Still, if she didn't at least try, this girl would be dead. Acting on pure instinct Maisha was already halfway out the door, but then she stopped.

The troopers were already watching her, weren't they? They knew she was something more than your standard medical student, trying to get through her degree. Maybe if she left this house she would come back to find them waiting for her again, with something rather more threatening than words. Was it worth the risk? If the Federation came to take her away, what would her people do without her?

Maisha shook her head. What, could she condemn this poor girl to die in her place based off a paranoid hunch? _Whoever lets one man die lets the whole world perish –_ that was in the old texts, or at least, her mother used to say it was. Maisha had never managed to find it in the books she owned, but she knew they were patchy and incomplete, pieced together from what remained after The Reunion.

She hitched her dress up and ventured out into the jungle, putting her faith in the gods around.

* * *

“You don't know what he's doing in there all day, do you?”

Noll's ears pricked up when he heard his mother on the doorstep, whispering about him to someone. He could hardly fault her for being worried. The person on the other side of the entrance sighed. “Rarely, if ever.” It was Betsy, of course. Who else came to visit him?

“I can hear you, you know!” Noll called out to them from in from of his computer terminal, casting a spell of silence before Betsy could reveal anything particularly incriminating to anyone who didn't need to know it.

An awkward silence fell between the two of them, before Betsy opted to go fill it: “I'll go check on him.”

When she entered his cramped compartment he was still lodged at the monitor, luminescent green searing onto his retinas. “You're still looking for that man we talked to, huh?”

“I've dredged up a lot about him,” Noll told her cheerfully, launching straight into data geek mode, neatly bypassing the concern in her voice. “A cargo ship driver, early fifties, Gamma grade. No wife, no children. No legal record to speak of, no sign of having ever had trouble with anyone. Now, why would anyone go to the trouble of killing him?”

Betsy winced. “What, you really think somebody killed him?”

Noll sighed. He supposed that question was inevitable, and maybe he was paranoid for even contemplating it, but... “It all seems like too much of a coincidence, doesn't it? That he died the second we were talking to him? Didn't you get the impression we were being sent a message?”

Betsy averted her eyes, chewing her bottom lip nervously. “I didn't get the impression _I_ was doing much of anything.” Noll flinched, bluntly reminded that this was not her problem, he had simply dragged her into it for lack of anyone else to talk to. Not that he expected anything terrible to happen to her because of him, but still. His sisters would have been mad if they thought he'd upset her.

“Ah, right. Sorry.”

She sighed deeply. “Just... promise me you'll be careful, okay?”

Noll scoffed. “Come on, Bets, you know me.”

“Yes. I do.” Her big blue eyes bore into him, and Noll squirmed in his seat, starting to feel very uncomfortable. “Whatever happened to him, he's dead now, you can't help. There's no use throwing your life away over it.”

“Throwing my life away? What exactly do you expect to happen to me?” Betsy said nothing, just kept staring at him. Noll sighed. “Alright. I promise, if it looks like I'm in over my head, I'll pull out, I'll forget it ever happened. Just, I need to at least try, okay? I couldn't live with myself otherwise.”

Betsy smiled sadly at him. “Of course you couldn't.” To his surprise, she got up, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Take care of yourself. I'll go talk to your mother.” While he was reeling in shock, she collected her things and walked out the door, leaving it hanging slightly ajar.


	7. Chapter 7

_Guilty._ Strange how such a small word could change one's universe so entirely. Lulette felt small and cold in the confines of her prison cell, awaiting transfer to a convict ship, forced into scratchy grey cotton the same as everybody else. She did her best to avoid the eyes of her fellow criminals, the sneering that she was no longer the famous, glamorous actress, just scum like the rest of them. She was already going to spend the rest of her life on Cygnus Alpha. Bullying was just adding insult to injury.

It wasn't as if she could blame them. She had been there in court, the electronic trail, showing her money going to various accounts traced to known rebels, had been very convincing. If she was them she'd probably hate the terrorist scum too. But _she_ knew she hadn't done it. So what on Earth had happened?

“Prisoner four-six-oh, Ryka, Lulu. Attention.”

She froze on her cheap prison mattress. So unused she was to hearing that name, the entire rest of her life seemed to shatter and fall away when it came back to her. “Lulette,” she insisted. “My name is Lulette.”

Out of her peripheral vision she could see her cellmates rolling their eyes, while the guard on the other side of the bars just smirked at her. “Not anymore, love,” he said. “You're not a famous actress anymore, just another convict. Lulu is what it says on my sheet, so Lulu you are.”

Lulette swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew she should have gone through the trouble to have it changed legally, but it was just so much hassle, so many computers repeating her birth name without a clue as to why it bothered her so, and when she was famous everyone just seemed to respect what she wanted to be called, to identify her as this mononymous goddess, _Lulette_.

It was stunning, how quickly she could go from being Terra's sweetheart to despised and outcast, but she understood. People felt like she had betrayed them. That she had cast a spell over them for the last thirty years, convincing the world that she was one of them, not a traitor, and they were just now waking up.

“Be that as it may,” she kept her face fixed firm, not asking any sympathy of her guard and not receiving any either, “my married name is still–”

“But you're not married anymore, are you?” The guard asked. Lulette stepped back. “Your marriage was annulled with your conviction. Well, it wouldn't be fair to Mr. Frisson to expect him to wait around while you rot on a penal planet, would it?”

Lulette struggled hard not to cry. Of course, they would take Myk from her with everything else. She didn't understand why this was happening. She had always been a loyal Federation citizen, more loyal than anyone else she knew. She didn't know how they could be so...

“Now, do you want this visitor or not?”

_A visitor?_ Lulette watched the door behind him swing open, and rushed up to the bars. “Myk!” Sure enough, there was her husband, law be damned. She was desperate to embrace him, but of course her arms wouldn't fit through. “Oh god, I knew you'd come. Please, Myk, you have to do something, you have to get me out of here, you know I would never – oh, I've missed you so much–”

“Okay, Lulu, that's enough.”

She took a step back. Myk had known her for half her life; he knew why he should never, ever call her that. Dumbfounded, Lulette could only recoil, while the man who had been her husband smirked at her.

“You really had me fooled, didn't you?” Lulette blinked in confusion. Did she? “I always believed, no matter how stupid, vain, vapid you were, you and I, we always believed in the same things. Your charm, I suppose. Did the rebels train you for that? Did they teach you how to convince everyone you were on their side?”

“Myk, no.” Her voice was slipping from her, torn away like so much else. “You can't believe...”

“I saw the evidence in the trial room, I know what to believe.” Lulette couldn't help but sob. She knew why people might believe she was guilty, but even Myk? She knew, she _knew_ she hadn't done anything wrong. Why couldn't she make anybody believe her? “I only came here to see how you were faring, before they ship you off to your richly-deserved justice. Rest assured, once you're gone I will be fucking every slut who looks my way. All the better to pretend you never existed.”

“Myk, _please_ ,” she begged, but it was too late. He was already walking out the door and out of her life, as if she was nothing. The women who had been scorning her now glanced toward her with sympathy.

Maybe that was it then. Maybe, if even Myk couldn't believe she was telling the truth, she should just give up, let herself be shipped of to parts unknown and left to die. What was here for her on Earth?

Halfway through collapsing onto the cold concrete floor, Lulette braced herself against the metal bars, and stopped. No, that wasn't her, she would never just give up and play dead. She had never done that since she was a child. She would carry on surviving, and fuck anyone who said otherwise.

The buzzing of her guard's headset filled her brain while she tried to get her mind back together. “Look, the rules are very precise,” he said, “every prisoner can receive only one visitor an–” He stopped. “Understood. I'll send him in at once, sir.”

_Who can it be now?_ She wondered, but through the door came a tall man with distinguished silver hair in a smart suit, and it was like having the weight of a whole planet lifted off her shoulders. “Anders!”

“ _Lulette._ ” He, unlike he husband, came rushing to meet her as quick as she came to him. Through the bars there wasn't enough space for her to embrace her, but he could just about manage to kiss her on the brow. “Oh, my poor girl, what have they done to you?”

She forced the tears to stop streaming from her eyes. “Oh, I'm alright, really,” she said. “Just, you're going to get me out of here, aren't you? I can't spend the rest of my life like this.” It wasn't even Cygnus Alpha that scared her so much – she didn't know enough about that to know what to be scared of – but the thought that everyone she cared about would spend the rest of her life believing she really was a traitor of the most vile sort, that left her petrified. “ _You_ know I didn't do it, don't you? I know, I've always been too mouthy for my own good, but I swear I would never–”

“Lulette, Lulette, relax,” Anders reassured her. “I was your psychiatrist for more than ten years. If you were a resistor, don't you think I might have noticed?”

Despite the circumstances, she managed to laugh at that. “True,” she said. “But Myk thinks I did it. He wants nothing to do with me.”

“Myk is a cunt, and you were always far too good for him.” Anders paused. “Maybe I could have mentioned that twenty-odd years ago.”

Lulette wanted to laugh. Despite everything she felt like a traitor for feeling this way, but it was a relief to feel her husband dismissed like that, as roughly as he had dismissed her. “Why is this happening to me?” she asked, lost as she had ever felt. “What have I done wrong?”

Anders sighed, anger showing in just his breath. “Mjurnel's behind it, I know she is,” he said.

“Mjurnel?” Lulette echoed it like a curious child, but the second the name slipped from her lips, she understood. The head of Space Command, and hence for the last five years or so, also the president. Lulette had been a vocal proponent of the return to civilian administration; she had made many public broadcasts in favour of the referendum that passed not six months ago. Anders had always assured her that he was on her side. Perhaps too strongly, for the head of the civil service.

“She wants to punish me,” said Anders. “She thinks I ought to have been on her side, helped her stay tinpot dictator of the entire galaxy. She's only got days left, but god damn if she won't use those days to tear the people I love away from me.”

Slowly, Lulette nodded along. Of course, cruel and petty spite, those were emotions she was familiar with. “Hey.” Anders caught her chin through the bars. “I will get you out of here, I promise. I'll have a word to Aimi. One presidential pardon, coming up.”

“Aimi.” Of course, their new president. The first non-military individual to hold the position in over forty years. Lulette had to have faith in her. What other choice did she have? “Can you do that?”

Anders chuckled. “My love, do you know who I am?” And of course she did. He was the man the entire Federation ran through. Somehow, no matter how old she got, she would always be a child compared to him. “Have you ever known anything I couldn't do?”


	8. Chapter 8

When Maisha arrived in the tunnels that lead to her surgery, everything seemed different somehow. Quiet, dark, still – all those were words that described the place at the best of times, that didn't exactly explain what was wrong, but still, the energy had changed for sure. Something was amiss.

Trying to ignore it, Maisha headed down her usual route in a rush, hoping to reach her destination before this poor girl was dead. Then she heard three guns cock at her. “Freeze, Miss Mayalam.”

She froze.

Hands in the air, she took her time to appraise the men who slowly came out of the shadows, circling her with their weapons, none of them looking any older than she did. “I'm sorry,” she said, as polite as she could possibly manage. “What seems to be the matter, officers?”

The three of them squinted at her, clearly not impressed by her attempt at diplomacy. “You're under arrest, Miss Mayalam,” said one of them, seemingly the oldest, probably the captain.

Maisha swallowed hard. Yes, she had rather gathered than from all the guns. Still, she did her best to retain her composure, to take it all one second at a time. “On what charge?”

“Practicing medicine without a license.” That took her by surprise. She had imagined her arrest, when she had imagined it, to be on some obviously trumped up charge designed just to get rid of her, something she could rail against at trial and embarrass them all in the process. What they actually accused her of, well, she might not believe they had any right to decide whether or not she was allowed to tend to her own people, but she could hardly claim she hadn't done it.

“I see.” She remained still as the guns drew closer to her, and slowly she started to shiver. It got colder in these tunnels than it ever did on the surface. “And the girl I was here to attend to – I presume she's been whisked away to your superior medical knowledge?”

The Captain didn't respond, but one of his subordinates did, scoffing in her face. “There was no girl,” he said. “Just a trap to lure you in, once and for all.”

Maisha reeled from this revelation. On some level, it didn't really surprise her, and yet– “But Viyon,” she said, “he sent me a message, told me my services were needed. Didn't he?”

“Oh, he sent you a message.” The Captain was finally talking to her, smirking cruelly at her confusion. “Rest assured, he did everything we asked of him. We've had our eyes on this little butcher shop for awhile. When he learned he could avoid exile by selling you out, he couldn't wait to start talking, mark my words.”

Her eyes slammed shut as she evaded the sneering faces of her captors, crushed by this betrayal. But why should she be surprised? It wasn't as if she really knew Viyon. They had only met because they were among the few people left on this planet with medical skills, and the guts to use them. Why should she be surprised he would sell her out to save his own skin?

Maisha remained still and quiet as the troopers clamped cold earthen steel around her wrists. Internally, she thought: _Mother, I am so sorry._

* * *

Noll stared at his message box, chewing his lip nervously. Betsy hadn't answered him in three days. That wasn't like her. He tried to tell himself not to worry, she was probably just busy, but it weighed on him regardless. Ever since everything with Deca started, worries had plagued him, as much as he thought nothing would really come of this. Betsy, with her constant niggling him to let it go before he got in real trouble, didn't exactly help there.

“Noll? Could you come help me with dinner a moment, love?”

He jumped. “In a second, mum!” In a hurry, he closed down the interface. When he entered the kitchen, he noticed her eyes were red, and she was sniffling over the countertop. “Ooh, have we got fresh onions again?”

She looked up, then nodded, indicating a neatly chopped pile next to her. “I was going to make Chicken 63,” she said.

Noll grinned. “That's my favourite.”

“Oh, I know.”

He got to work sorting and cleaning the greens and other earth vegetables, while his mother merrily stewed and sauteed. Noll was slightly bemused by how long it took. Usually, his mother didn't bother to make such an effort except for special occasions. He hadn't forgotten one of his sisters birthdays again, had he?

Before long the dinner was ready and they sat down to eat. “Well, isn't this nice?” said Mum. “All of us, eating together, being a family.”

Tifi, with the adolescent cynicism over a thirteen year old could muster, raised her eyebrows. “That's not exactly unusual, Mum.” Indeed, she looked thoroughly over it and like she would be happy to get up and leave.

Suzu squinted across the table. “Does the government need you to get married again?”

Mum did a double take. “What? No. Why would you think that?”

Suzu shrugged. “You were acting like you had something to tell us.”

After a moment's pause, Mum laughed and shook her head. “You lot, honestly. I raised a bunch of little paranoiacs.”

Noll frowned over his dinner. Alright, marriage was unlikely – the Federation didn't really try to breed people after forty – but Suzu was right, Mum was acting strangely. What was wrong?

When dinner was over, Noll went to help his mother clean up without being asked, while Tifi rolled over to watch whatever was on the viewscreen. Mum seemed to be rushing it, he noticed. He could have sworn that plate still had food on it. “Noll, love. Come sit with us.”

Noll squinted at the screen. There wasn't anything particularly interesting on, just some vizfilm from twenty years ago, and he wanted to look more into the Deca mystery before bed. “Why?”

She sighed at him in that guilt-tripping way only his mother could. “Is it so bad I want to spend some time with my children?”

Resigned to doing as she asked, Noll struggled not to smirk at Tifi rolling her eyes just out of Mum's view, annoyed to have her vizscreen-time intruded upon. Suzu stopped, already halfway up the stairs. “You too, Suzu.” Mum turned her head back to look at her, as if she had only just remembered.

Suzu whined. “Mum, the assessors are coming in tomorrow!”

“Oh, we all know you're a genius, you'll be fine. Now come on.”

They all moved into position as instructed, but doubt settled in Noll's stomach as he settled on the lounging chair. He kept eye contact with Suzu, who seemed as bemused by it all as he was. In desperation he tried catching Tifi's eye, for her to just shrug at him, as if to say _how the hell should I know?_

That left them all sat on the couch, watching a vizfilm they weren't really paying attention to. It felt like they were waiting for something, but Noll didn't know what.

Then, at half twenty-one exactly, Mum suddenly jumped to her feet. “Alright, girls, time for bed!”

Tifi whined, throwing her head back against the sofa dramatically. “ _Mum_ , I'm thirteen,” she said, “I can stay up 'til twenty-two hours.”

She had a point. Also, Suzu probably should have been in bed a little awhile ago, but she wasn't going to bring it up if no-one else was. “Well, maybe tomorrow, but for now I say it's bedtime, come on.”

“Mum.” Noll grabbed his mother's sleeve as she was trying to shepherd his sisters upstairs. “What's going on?”

There was a knock at the door.

Noll watched as all the colour drained from his mother's face. “W-wait here, love.” She was shaking as she crossed the room. By now it was obvious something was very, very wrong, but Noll didn't see much choice but to stand there like she said until it became clear what was going on.

“Not _now_ ,” Mum whispered, cracking open the door just barely enough to speak to whoever was on the other side. “Please, let me send the girls to bed–”

“You've had as long as we agreed.” Her conversation partner did not care to keep quiet like she did. He pushed the door open roughly and all but shoved her out of the way, and Noll was startled to see a tall man clad in officer black standing before him. “Noll Evis?”

Noll swallowed hard, trying not to lose composure while Tifi dug her nails into the couch, and Suzu shrunk behind him. “Y-yes?”

“I'm afraid I have to tell you, you are under arrest.”

“ _What_?!” Tifi shrieked before Noll had time to process the words. “What for?!”

The man did not miss a beat. “Espionage. Illegally spying on Federation communications.”

Tifi scoffed at the thought, while Suzu clasped at his sleeve in despair, all too aware that was the exact sort of thing he'd do. Still reeling, Noll tried to make sense of it all, through what he knew of the official computer system. “But you can't prove that unless–”

_Unless they have access to my personal computer terminal._ Only someone in the same household as him could give them that, and suddenly his mother's strange behaviour clicked horribly into place. “...Mum?”

She did not even try to hide her tears. “Darling, I _had_ to,” she said. “They said, if I didn't, it would be all three of you, they'd – but you'll be alright, you're _smart_ , they need people like you in the penal colonies, they won't just...”

_Will I?_ Noll wondered as Fia's words faded into nothingness. He had never thought people like him did particularly well on prison planets; maybe that was just what she needed to tell herself so she could live with what she'd done.

His captor didn't give their family much time to tear apart. “Come on, with me boy.”

“No, wait,” Mum tugged at his sleeve insistently, “give me some time to get his things–”

Instinctively the man backhanded her, hard enough to leave her knocked out on the carpet. In the background Noll could hear Tifi screaming and Suzu sobbing, but he himself just went limp as he was dragged away, finding nothing in him with which to fight.


	9. Chapter 9

“Mjurnel.”

She still stopped like a soldier, feet pulling together before she rotated one-eighty degrees. “Mr. Chen.” Her face was as sour as ever, hair pulled back so tight it looked like her face was being pushed back. “Do you need something.”

“Don't play games with me.” Anders cursed as he approached her, knowing she wouldn't be intimidated. “You know exactly what this is about. Lulette.”

Mjurnel did not miss a beat. “She's a traitor. The courts have dealt with the matter. I'm sorry if you're upset.”

“Dammit Mjurnel I know this was you!” he grabbed her arm and squeezed tightly. “This is revenge, is it? You think I betrayed you, so you take it out on the people I love? I always knew you were a heartless bitch, but I never knew you were so _petty_.”

“Unhand me.” She yanked her hand back, sneering. “As our chief bureaucrat, I'm sure you know assaulting the President of the Federation is a serious offence, even for you. And I am the president of the Federation. For another month, at least.”

Anders balled his fist. Of course, that was what this was all about. She had absolute power handed to her by Star Command, and he had taken it away from her, by throwing his weight and with it, the weight of the administration behind Aimi and her campaign for civilian rule. Because he believed in her. Mjurnel would never forgive him for that.

“Now, as much you would like to think the whole galaxy revolves around you, I have actual work to do.” She shook her head. “The Federation will need it.”

He wanted to stop her, but he knew it was pointless, she had never budged in the twenty years they'd been working together and she wasn't going to start now. She walked away and he retreated back to his office, greeted with a familiar buzzing hum.

“Hello, Orac.” He sighed. “I don't suppose you could figure how to get Lulette out of this?”

“Well of course I could!” replied the computer, huffy as ever. “But I don't see why I shouldn't bother wasting my intellect on such a small and trivial matter.”

Anders laughed bitterly. No, of course he couldn't. He was fond of the supercomputer, but he knew the affection ran only one way. He could never expect Orac to care about him, or the people he cared about.

“Nevermind. Forget it.” He sat down at his desk with a heavy sigh, brooding over the situation.

Then there was a knock at the door.

He looked up, startled, and a voice called out to him. “Anders? It's me, Aimi.”

“Aimi!” He rushed to his feet to slide the doors open, and she entered gracefully. “What are you doing here?”

She smirked. “I am president-elect. They can't stop me preparing the place for my swearing in.” Anders grinned. No, they couldn't – not when he had made it very clear to his subordinates what the consequences would be if they got in her way. She approached him with a sympathetic look. “Are you alright? I heard, about – Lulette.”

He sighed heavily. Even now, it didn't all feel real. “Mjurnel's doing this to punish me, I know she is. But I can't do anything about it. We will have to wait it out until you're in office.”

Aimi took a step back, chewing her lip nervously. “It might not be that simple,” she muttered.

Anders frowned. “What do you mean? You'll be president, you have the power–”

“Yes, I have the _power_ , but you know it's not that simple,” she said. He sighed. Yes, he knew that. He had just let himself be hopeful for a moment. Stupid, at this age. “Come on, half the planet still doesn't think anyone but the army can run this country. I get sworn in and immediately start issuing pardons to my friends, to the people who campaigned to put me here, that's my credibility destroyed for a generation.”

Anders nodded along. Yes, he knew all that. Still, he had to add: “I know she didn't do it.”

“Then we need to _prove_ it, Anders,” said Aimi. “I'm sorry. But what we are doing is bigger than one woman.” Gently she cupped his jaw, turning his face to meet her gaze. “You _do_ believe in what we're doing, don't you?”

Slowly, he met her big blue eyes, and nodded. “I believe in you.”

Aimi smiled. “And I know you believe in her,” she said. “Trust me, if I know the first thing about Lulette, she is not going to take this all lying down.”

* * *

“Is it all under control?”

Mjurnel closed her door and nodded. “Chen thinks I'm doing this all to get at him.” She rolled her eyes. “The man really is such an insufferable narcissist.”

Behind her, Myk scoffed. “He and Lulette always were a pair.”

Spinning on her heel, turning and facing him with a frown. “Is that really necessary?” she asked. “The woman is going to spend the rest of her life on a prison planet. You don't have to add insult to injury.”

Myk shrugged. “Easy for you to say. You didn't have to deal with her for thirty years.”

Mjurnel raised her eyebrows, thinking this over. On one hand, she could imagine that pretending to love someone whose presence you resented would wear away at you, but then again, she had spent a decade on the jungles of Hexion 9, going half-mad among the insects and the diseases. She didn't find being married to a beautiful blonde viz star to be a situation that invoked much of her sympathy.

“In any case, it's done now.” With Lulette out of the way, that was all four of them, plus that boy, the whole matter should be under wraps. Special Agent Myk Frisson would keep his mouth shut if he knew what was good for him. Aimi Kasaba wouldn't be getting her hands on any of it.

None of this made Mjurnel feel good about herself, but pleasing herself wasn't her job.


	10. Chapter 10

Henna Hae lay on a thin prison mattress, staring up at a spaceship ceiling. She shivered. This place was clearly warmed to the bare minimum required to keep the prisoners alive, and that was much colder than she was used to on Axom 5. Not enough to freeze her though. Shame. That would make things much simpler.

She groaned and rolled on her side. It would be so much easier if she was simply dead. If the Federation had wanted to torture her colleagues' name out of her, she could have let herself expire on the table, but instead they simply strapped her into the mind probe and did it the simple way. Maybe that was for the best. It wasn't as if she actually trusted herself not to break under torture.

Even if the rebellion on Axom 5 had somehow survived the inevitable crackdown, there would be nothing left there for her. Tate had always made it very clear what he thought of turncoats. As if he would believe she hadn't sold them out.

She closed her eyes. She should have just blown herself up when Kassi told her to. Why didn't she? She was afraid to die. What a joke. Now she didn't have anything left to live for.

_Kassi, I'm so sorry. I wish I was with you._

But she was unfortunately still alive, and so she waited as the people she had spent her entire life trying to escape carted her off to her fate.


End file.
